A Poem: Window of a taxi

From the window of a taxi today,
I saw a peace loving hippy chick girl,
Who was looking :heart_eyes: at a soldier,
You can’t make rules about love.

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I like this one the best cuz I love hippy chix

I’m going to California I hear there’s a women out there with love in her eyes and flowers In her hair.

I hear she plays guitar, and cries and sings!

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East coast girls think they’re the ■■■■…when they’re really not…

While west coast girls are the SHIZNIT…but they carry themselves like they’re not…

It’s quite the conundrum.

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my personal favorite poem you’ve written, thus far!

It reminds me of me and my ex.
He was sent off to war a few times
I met him afterward.
purple bags under his eyes.
a tender tone to his voice.

I spent the year before volunteering at a peace activist center
trying to help organize the community
all dreamy eyed was I no lie
but his eyes caught my eye, too.
I didn’t tell him at first, I just enjoyed the fling.

A tumultuous love affair though; it lasted a decade, long after he’d moved out of state.
Long after he’d learned my anti-war history and belittled me over the phone
he was desperate to know he fought for a reason, so I just sighed over the phone
Overhead, satellites listened. I listened. He breathed heavily and finally hung up, calling me back a month later
to start up conversations like nothing ever came out between us.

I allowed it. I missed him. I let him talk to me about his ideas on politics and we argued, but never lost contact. I was a starry eyed dreamer, maybe he was my opposite.

All those phone calls, we fell asleep listening to the other talk about something we didn’t agree on. Waking up only to shout a snappy come back about how the other was wrong. We never parted ways, though our hearts were pulled down different paths
Love, man, wtf.
rest in peace **** :heart:

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